Entry for April 01, 2007: Peace and quiet again.

Houseguests have gone up to Queensland for a few days.
I’m having a period of detox before they reappear on my doorstep in a couple of days.
Nice to see I’m not the only one feeling my age, as they are both taking longer to recover in the mornings.
Went out last Sat night and walked out of the pub around ‘one’ to find one of the missing visitors and a huge Samoan bouncer wouldn’t let me back in.
I don't remember walking a couple of K's to find a bus, but remember getting on the bus and paying, fell asleep and woke just in time to get off at my stop.
Don’t remember walking to the flat, or getting undressed, but awoke in bed the next morning with the oblatory ‘trail of clothes across the floor.’

Had a dinner party for my visitors and made mashed taters with sheep’s yogurt (smells like a sheep) a couple of cloves of garlic, n paprika.

Opened a bottle o favourite scotch that I carried all the way home from U.K.
Opened bottle of Calvados ‘for the ladies.’
Played with deaf dog.
Scored an Easter egg.
Received sloppy wet kisses from drunk wives.
All the dishes were washed up by pre-drunk wives.
Smoked cigars with their husbands.


With the passing of Daylight savings, we see this year’s festival season drawing to a close.
These clips were taken from outside the V fest.

As with the other festivals we’ve had in the park during the year, hordes of kids were drawn to the noise and energy to ‘walk the circuit.’
Parameter defence was pretty lax compared to the enthusiasm of festival security I’ve previously observed.

There was a single fence erected and it didn’t look much effort had been applied to its construction.

It\u2019s as though the organisers didn\u2019t care if people got in?

I noticed an ABC TV offsite broadcast van so maybe the organisers were making more cash from selling the broadcast rights?

Entry for January 30, 2007: Oz day 07

The country celebrated Australia Day last Friday.
I don't really do this 'flag thang.'
I like to think of the whole planet as my domain, rather then just one tiny corner roped off with border control.

I was down at the beach early cause the Google plane was doing a hires geo photo shoot.
There were a few people mulling around with signs lying on the ground.
The thing is, that we didn't see any plane fly over.
Read in the paper today (Tuesday) that the plane was diverted, as it might have interfered with the landing of commercial flights at the main airport.

That afternoon, I joined some mates down at the harbour to see a free gig by the Whitlams.
This is a short clip I took while down there.

Great group, good music, and proper lyrics that tell a story.
Interesting choice of band to perform for Sydneysiders celebrating Oz day.
I\u2019ve included some lyrics including the ones for the song in the video.

I've highlighted favourite bits.


(YEAR OF THE RAT) by WHITLAMS

Creeping into town with all these changes in my head
Funny how my old haunts all look new
A taxi from the airport to the Paris end of King
I'll drop my bags I'll see who's in

My dirty streets
My fabulous friends
Here I am
In your arms again


It's easy being famous in Sydney
Cause everyone's a star
But its got to be deepest darkest night
For you to see them all

There's beer and women even for the thinking man
Join the circus come on down
I've heard they'll even stop kicking you
Just before you hit the ground

My dirty streets
My fabulous friends
Yeah here I am
In your arms again
I'll get a shine-on
All night and day
You rough me up
Till I gotta get away

You know I love you but you try and kill me
Gotta hold your head up in the Year of the Rat
Newtown I love you but you try and kill me
Gotta hold your head up in the Year of the Rat
Tat, a tat-tat, tat

Second rower with the earpiece and the rumble in his eye
Making sure that I don't stumble, wishes all the freaks die
Over there a plain-clothes cop looking at his watch a lot
Wondering is it time to call in the dogs

My dirty streets
My fabulous friends
Here I am
In your arms again
I'll get a shine-on
All night and day
You rough me up
Till I gotta get away

You know I love you but you try and kill me
Gotta hold your head up in the Year of the Rat
Newtown I love you but you try and kill me
Gotta hold your head up in the Year of the Rat
Tat, a tat-tat, tat

You know I love you but you try and kill me
You know I love you but you try and kill me, yeah



BLOW UP THE POKIES


There was the stage, two red lights and a dodgy P.A.,
You trod the planks way back then,
And it's strange that you're here again, here again.

And I wish I, wish I knew the right words,
To make you feel better, walk out of this place.
Defeat them in your secret battle,
Show them you can be your own man again.
Don't, don't explain, lots of little victories take on the pain,
It takes so long to earn, you can double up or you can burn, you can burn.

Chorus
And I wish I, wish I knew the right words,
To blow up the pokies and drag them away.
Cause they're taking the food off your table,
So they can say that the trains run on time.
Flashing lights, it's a real show, and your wife? I wouldn't go home,
The little bundles need care and you can't be a father there, father there.

And I wish I, wish I knew the right words,
To blow up the pokies and drag them away.
Cause they're taking the food off your table,
So they can say that the trains run on time.

Another man there was made the trains run on time.


YOU GOTTA LOVE THIS CITY

You gotta love this city, love this city, you gotta love this city
You gotta love this city, love this city, you gotta love this city
Too sick for breakfast, the car wouldn't start
The train was really full, and his girlfriend had a boyfriend
The houses all the same, now here's the rain
Not falling but collapsing at his feet
Deep breath and he clocks on, raincoat on his arm
He wishes the hours would disappear
But the trip's in vain 'cause awaiting him
A lay-off notice and his severance pay
He shuffles back to the train again
You gotta love this city
You gotta love this city, love this city, you gotta love this city
You gotta love this city, love this city, you gotta love this city
Back home he lies in bed for days and days
Watching American television, smoking
And playing with himself ringing double-O double-5
Into town on Thursday night
The girls are pretty and the lights are bright
At least he loves his city
Holding court on Taylor Square proper was the man he could become
Lear's Fool is a bum now
With seven holy parcels by his side
You gotta love this city, love this city, you gotta love this city
You gotta love this city, love this city, you gotta love this city
He walks along the foreshore, he's got a bottle
And he's breathing with his city
It was busy everywhere he went
There was a crowd over the bay
And a fireworks display
It's all very strange for a Thursday night thought he
Then it dawns on him as a cracker explodes
And who the hell is he going to blame?
It dawns on him - the horror - we got the Olympic Games
You gotta love this city for its body and not its brain

And he screams My city is a whore, opened herself to the world
Jumped up and down in pastel shirts
And lathered up thinking about designs for T-shirts
You gotta love this city for its body and not its brain
It's more than he can take, and the stars' reflection breaks
'Cause you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it enjoy the view
You gotta love this city
He's had enough and he sinks to the bottom


I MAKE HAMBURGERS

My first customer was Megan
She came in for a hamburger with the lot - no meat
Hey that's a salad roll I said and we started going out
My second customer was Susan
she came in for Diet Pepsi morning tea
Each day and I said You don't need to be on a diet.
Do you wanna come out tonight?

I said I'll bring Gringo he's got a lot of money
And he'll take us to the bars where they've got a view.
He'll buy us all those beers they give it to you in bottles
They put lemon in the top it don't taste too bad I'm telling you
My third customer was Maria she came in for hot chips and sauce
More sauce she said. I said now you're talking
and she took me home to meet her mother
My fourth customer was Sandy she came in for nothing I could see except me
So it was I too, was eating a hamburger of sorts within an hour
I make hamburgers I get all the girls
and I take 'em out to dinner and I give 'em all a whirl
and If they work I keep 'em If they don't I keep 'em too
But I teach 'em all how to be dirty girls like you

Entry for January 10, 2007: I’ve been back at work since Monday.

Spent the weekend cleaning. Read about the Japanese nationwide spring-clean on the web...

One of the Japanese traditions I most anticipate is The Great Cleaning that proceeds New Year's Day -- otherwise known as o-sooji. (The o is honorific denoting greatness, sooji means cleaning.)

Traditionally, New Year's in Japan was a time to wipe the slate clean of the cobwebs: debts, grudges, unfinished business as well as the thin filaments hanging from the ceiling and dust bunnies behind refrigerators. Much has gone the way of the samurai dressed in warfare armour but the spirit of the tradition remains intact.

So on the days leading up to New Year's, workers, business owners and homemakers commit their time, spray bottles and buckets, cleansers and rags, dusters and mops, and hands and knees to cleaning their properties. Homes are scrubbed top to bottom -- windows too! Employers "knock off early" so employees can clean their desks. Shopkeepers from the operators of the small noodle shops and izakaya (Japanese pubs) to the large department stores will emerge from behind closed doors and be seen sweeping steps, sidewalks and stoops. Mostly men but many women too will be scrubbing their automobiles spotless and placing on the hood small ornamental pieces of greenery representing fresh tidings.


Only today have I cleared the pile of ironing I had sitting on the bed. I bought clothes for the new year in the sales.

I finished off the yearly ‘family type stuff’ with a drive up to dads farm for a couple of days of country fresh air last week.
It was nice to see big fluffy cottonwool clouds in the sky as I drove up the highway.
Currently blue skies are drought skies over here.

I think that the happiest I’ve been in a long while, was driving up to dads and back. Not the arriving there, but the drive itself.
Threading through the country side, music blasting out of the radio, stopping off in tiny rural towns for drinks and snacks.


I helped dad round up some calves, then we snagged their ears with electronic tags.
I’ve read about this sort of measure in the U.S. where animals are tracked by computer to quickly shut down disease outbreaks like BSE or foot and mouth.
After seeing the chaotic business of animal movement in the U.K. I reckon this is probably a good thing.

The calves in the 'cattle crush' (metal fence arrangement designed to allow a single person to handle half a ton of unhappy muscle and bone) were shitting all over the place, and I’m told that the dogs like to lick it up, especially when the wind has formed a bit of a crust on top (hay I felt sick after hearing the story, I’m just passing on the joy!)

There were also the swarms of flies, which didn't seem to bug dad very much. I guess that's what you get when you lump a group of animals together in one spot.
A while back, dung beetles were introduced to the area in an attempt to reduce the 'turdage' (that's an official measurement. much like tonnage.)

While the calves were penned up, we cut marking wedges out of their ears, and I’m told that the weirdly intelligent Indian Minor birds like to peck away at the discarded triangles of flesh. These sly little buggers were perched strategically (trust me when I say that this word is very apt for Indian Minors) around the area while they waited for the humans to clear out.
Dad finished the job, with trickles of blood running down one hand.

As usual when visiting parents (even at my age) I arrived home totting a bundle of food.
A bag of cherries, Chocolate brownies and a slice of pizza for my lunch.



Aims for the New Year…
I’m thinking that it would be nice to finally fix up the kitchen, so I’ve got that to look forward to.
Post more videos.
Get a flat mate, or turn my residence into an illegal b&b.

Entry for December 10, 2006: Crap, I feel like crap.

We had the work Christmas party on Friday.

Some genius decided that it would be a good idea to have everyone stand in a field next to a theme park (packed with children on holidays) for three hours, with the only cover being a tree up one end of the paddock.

A large group of us clustered around in the meagre shade, and we were accurately compared to a herd of cows looking for shelter.

Its winter everywhere else it would seem, so I need to set the scene.

Imagine somewhere really hot (Americans can think of Death Valley, Brits will remember Spain in the summer, and Eastern Europeans can use Chernobyl as a benchmark)

Now set a couple of tables out, and across the glaring white tablecloth, marshal regiments made up of bottles of beer, and plastic cups of cheap white wine.

Next door, line up a crew of minimum wage unfortunates (this is minimum wage in Oz so it's not quite as bad as minimum wage in the U.S.) to stand in the sun dressed up like penguins, to man the row of bain-maries filled with sausages, and sweaty chicken drumsticks.

The whole affair was pretty badly organised. It took me more then two hours to discover that there were bottles of champagne and red wine available behind the bar (at least red wine is tolerable when it is lukewarm.)

A work Christmas party, is made up of a crowd of people desperately trying to socialise, and the main thing we have in common, apart from drinking, eating, and fucking (pardon for the language Gypsy) is that we all work for the same company.

Which is why I was desperately trying to steer conversations away from work, cause invariably it would turn into a bitch fest (and I'm really tired of complaining.)

So being as I work in the more technical part of our biz, the conversation gravitated towards talking about Nintendo's new game console, the Wii.

One controls this new game console, by waving around a plastic wand.

It's very kinetic, involving for all ages, and hilarious to watch others play.

After three hours roasting in the sun (I have a touch of red today,) a group of us jumped on a water taxi and headed across the harbour to a boutique brewer over in the city centre.

Over the six hours, others appeared (word of mouth is an amazing thing) and hidden away in the bowls of a harbour side pub, we all allowed the alcohol and the dark closeness to take us under.

There arn't any photos cause I reckon it's a bit rude to take a camera to work functions where there will be booze (hidden microphones I'm ok with.)

I didn't score a snog but there were lots of emotional people sobbing into drinks, and hugs.

There were bosses declaring that they weren't bad people. I told the six foot plus-square jawed-Italian-sky diver, that emotionally he was a five year old, and that he had never suffered (it turned out to be a good call.)

And there was one girl, who was surround by a group of guys, soulfully consoling her about her break up with a boy in the office, who was now dating the blond that had snogged half the guys at last years Christmas party (a group of guys consoling a drunk girl is code for a group of guys jostling to be the one that takes her home.)

There is something about a work Christmas party, and a release of pressure.

Woke up Saturday morning to find a trail of clothes across the flat leading to the shower.

It was a perfect morning lucky. It's been really hot the last couple of days, but the sea breeze blew through the flat, cooling my forehead.

Drank lots of water, napped a bit (once on the floor,) wondered down to the rock pools to molest the crabs for a bit.